


What Happens in Hotel Chandrila

by starfleetjedi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Casual Sex, F/M, Galaxy Wars, Hotel Chandrila, Hotel Sex, Maz the bartender, One Night Stand, Resistance Labs, Size Difference, Snoke and Palpatine LLP, awkward dirty talk, drinking buddies, fandom convention, hotel walk of shame, server!Mitaka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22539928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfleetjedi/pseuds/starfleetjedi
Summary: Accompanying her best friends to a Galaxy Wars convention in Chandrila sounded like a good idea at first. But third-wheeling sucks, and that's how Rey finds herself daydrinking alone at the hotel bar. And then she gets a free drink from a tall, brooding, handsome stranger...
Relationships: Finn/Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 54
Kudos: 367
Collections: For one is both and both are one in love: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DrPearlGatsby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrPearlGatsby/gifts).



> The prompt: **Rey is at this hotel to attend a fandom convention. Ben is extremely NOT attending the fandom convention (here on business). chance meetings, drinking, etc.**
> 
> A million thanks to my beta, [Nicolethetiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicolethetiger). ♥️All mistakes left are mine.

Rey sees him first. She is sure of it. Because it is just not possible that it is the other way around. He is tall, and brooding, and dressed like a normal person. Meanwhile, she and the thousands of other people in the hotel are dressed in either  _ Galaxy Wars _ merchandise or as a  _ Galaxy Wars _ character.

This stranger—this  _ giant _ —is wearing a business suit. A well-tailored one, by the looks of it. And Rey can tell, even though she doesn’t know a single person in her life that has ever worn a suit, that this man paid to have his three-piece Armani curve to his body.

He is looming at the very edge of the bar, scowling at the small horde of twenty-something-year-olds in a single file along the counter. They are counting down to take their pea green shots together, something Rey heard one of them call a “Greedo shooter”. It is only two o’clock in the afternoon, but it  _ is _ five o’clock somewhere. And who is she to judge when her hands are wrapped around a clammy glass of Tatooine Sunset?

The group of millennials clear off after they slam their shot glasses down and pose for an Instagram Story, and the suit pounces on the bartender, a wizened old woman with a name tag that says “Maz” and who looks about thirty years past retirement age.

“Old Fashioned, please,” is all he says before he grabs a stool at the opposite end of the bar from Rey. He looks snobbish, and is probably a decade older, with a 401(k) that is ten times more than her gross annual income. He looks like the kind of person who wouldn’t give her the time day for the sheer fact that she is wearing a Kylo Ren t-shirt and is sipping on the fruitiest drink within a ten-mile radius. So she quickly puts him out of her mind.

A bunch more people leave the bar area until it is only Rey, the suit, and an older gentleman reading a novel and sipping on a cup of coffee in a plush chair by the windows.

Rey’s phone vibrates, and she almost wants to chuck it across the bar and see if she can nail one of the cognac bottles on the top shelf. But her phone costs $900 and she is three months away from paying it off.

  
  


Rose:  _ Panel about to start _

Rose:  _ You coming? _

  
  


Rey bends her head and chews on the cherry stem poking out of the ice cubes in her cocktail as she lazily swipes her thumb across her phone.

  
  


Rey:  _ Bar getting a drink. I’ll meet you guys after _

Finn:  _ u not watching w us? _

Rose:  _ We’re right up front _

  
  


She responds with the rolling eyes emoji before she places her phone screen-down on the counter.  _ Don’t really care _ , she thinks. But she can’t say that to her two best friends, not when they are obsessed with the film franchise and have been talking about the convention for a year. She can, however, seethe in silence and solitude at the bar.

Tagging along with Rose and Finn to the two-day  _ Galaxy Wars  _ convention in Chandrila hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea initially. All three of them hang out in Rose and Rey’s apartment constantly, after all. But three hours into the drive along a dusty highway, they ran out of things to point out for their little game of “I Spy” and that’s when the lovebirds in her backseat decided to entertain each other with their lips.

She is happy for them, truly. It’s just that she hates being a third wheel. She’s had enough of it. She is tired of Rose and Finn ganging up on her during Monopoly. She feels left out when they keep choosing each other’s combinations when they play Cards Against Humanity. And she absolutely hates it when they don’t bother to keep their voices down when they fuck in Rose’s room. They could at least put some music on.

Today, she is tired of trailing behind them as they hold hands and disappear into crowds in a convention that she isn’t really all that interested in. Which is how she ends up in a bar, day drinking alone; seriously contemplating installing Tinder, Bumble, and--what else do the kids use these days? Grindr? Tumblr? Something with a missing e.

“Should have taken a plane,” she mutters to her drink, because she is not looking forward to another four hours trapped in a car with the tonsil hockey players.

Rey flips her phone over and swipes to Rose’s tweet where she is tagged.

  
  


**@theRoseT Day 1 of #GalaxyWarsCon20 with @FN2187 and @rayscav! Maybe they’ll confirm the rumored Kylo Ren miniseries during the panel today xx We’ll keep you posted.**

  
  


Rey presses like, retweets it, and scrolls through her feed some more until her straw makes a hollow sucking sound. Did she really just inhale her cocktail in under ten minutes?

Before she can ask Maz for a new drink, a fresh glass is being pushed towards her.

“Compliments of the gentleman.”

Rey glances over to the window, but the man with the novel is gone. So she whips her head around to the suit. He is on his laptop and not even paying attention to her or Maz.

“What do I do? Do I go talk to him? Do I send a drink back?” Rey whispers, eyes wide and imploring Maz for direction.

“You do whatever you want to, dear.” Maz gives her a wink.

When Rey had slid into the barstool and ordered a drink, she remembers asking for “something yummy but not too crazy because between you and me, I’m a lightweight.” Clearly, Maz took that as a very light, negligible suggestion because Rey is already slightly buzzed and she is feeling braver than usual.

She is also feeling extra lonely. What could it hurt, really, if she talks to this guy? She’s not planning to drag this stranger and his Armani suit to one of the rooms upstairs so she can sit on his face. No. She is just going to chat him up, just until the conference is over and she has to go back to the room that she shares with Rose and Finn. Who are most likely going to try to feel each other up under the sheets the second they think Rey is asleep. Oh god.

She slips off her stool and makes her way towards Mr. Armani.

“Thanks for the drink.”

She seems to have startled him, because he jumps a little at the sound of her voice. But he recovers quickly and schools his expression to that of polite interest.

“I’m Rey.” She extends her hand while mentally berating herself for giving him her real first name. Isn’t this how people end up with stalkers? You give them one little innocuous piece of information and then they run with it until you find them breathing heavily against your second-floor bedroom window in the dead of night?

His giant hand swallows hers, and—she is only 90% certain because she has no scientific evidence to prove it  _ yet _ , but she thinks his hand span can engulf the entire front of her waist.

“Hi, Rey. I’m Ben.”

She thinks he should be locked up for the sinful way that he says her name.

*

The tip of Ben’s nose is pressed up and sliding against Rey’s clit. She can’t decide whether she prefers this sensation over the feel of his wide tongue licking wet stripes up and down her cunt lips. It is striking, the contrast of his pale arms looped around her tanned thighs as he wedges her legs apart to keep them from crushing his head. When his thumb presses circular patterns on her warm skin, she hums in delight.

Her heart is beating wildly in her chest, and she starts to protest when his tongue stops licking, but she quiets when he clamps his lips around her clit and sucks. Her eyes immediately roll to the back of her head.

“Jesus,” she groans, hands fisting the sheets of the luxurious king-sized bed in his suite. God, how much does this room cost that the sheets are clearly superior compared to the starchy, scratchy ones in hers?

She stops thinking about the sheets when Ben inserts one finger into her slit. “Fuck,” she curses, drawing out the syllable until her voice cracks.

He moans in approval when she gently grabs a fistful of his jet black hair and pulls him closer, urging his mouth to press deeper against her cunt. She is delirious and so close, and she would name her firstborn after this stranger if he can just make her come in—

Oh.  _ Oh _ .

He adds another finger and swirls the tip of his tongue around her clit.

“Yes,” she breathes. His hand on her thigh clenches, and the fingers inside her are pistoning in and out, in rhythm with his tongue’s ministrations.

“Close,” she pants, her fists clenching tighter against his scalp. “I’m so close, Ben. Please, please.”

She feels the fingers inside her curve, and he hits that sweet spot that makes her see stars and rips his name right out of her throat. Her back arches off the bed, and she is squirming so much but her fingers are still in his hair and he struggles to pull his head out from between her thighs.

“Sweetheart.” She hears him plead before she releases him and she rides the last waves of her orgasm.

Before she can compose herself or feel suddenly self-conscious about her nakedness while he is still fully dressed, he starts to kiss the inside of her thigh, slowly moving up to her navel, until his lips are wrapped around one pebbled nipple. One hand is gently squeezing her breast, while the other is working on unbuttoning his dress shirt.

Rey tries to help him, but every nerve ending in her body is too sensitive, and she is still writhing under his mouth. She does succeed in pushing his jacket off his shoulders.

“May I fuck you?”

_ May I?  _ His question is barely audible with how low and raspy he sounds, but she hears it and she is nodding eagerly. Perhaps too enthusiastically. But wasn’t that a given? When she followed him into his suite, she had thought he would fuck her real quick against the wall so they don’t stain the bedsheets. She was pleasantly surprised when he unceremoniously picked her up and tossed her onto the bed before swiftly yanking her shoes and clothes off so he could eat her out like a man starved.

She starts to wonder how often he does this—pick up random girls from the bar and take them up to his room—but he is shrugging out of his three-piece suit and is unzipping his pants, and her brain flies out the window.

She really shouldn’t be  _ that _ surprised that he has a  _ cock _ . 

Not a penis. 

Not a wiener. 

A fucking cock. 

All girthy and menacing at full attention, and leaking pre-cum. She is aware that she is staring and her mouth is slightly ajar. He is probably used to this kind of reaction from all the women he has undoubtedly murdered with his glorious cock, but he doesn’t look cocky (g _ ood one, Rey, _ she thinks). In fact, he seems to be blushing.

Or his face is just flushed from his display of famished feasting of her pussy. She can’t tell, and she doesn’t care. Because he is fisting his cock and stroking slowly from tip to base, and his chocolate brown eyes are traveling all over her naked body sprawled on his bed.

She bites her bottom lip and squeezes her thighs together to contain the sudden pooling of heat in her core. What was she thinking letting herself be whisked away by a pair of pretty eyes, big hands, and long legs? Who gave this man the right—

“I want to come inside you.”

_ Yes, come inside me, you beautiful tree. Let me climb you and you can do whatever the fuck you want with me _ . This is highly irresponsible, but it is four o’clock and it is too late to back out now that she has been thoroughly eaten out.

She nods once again, before she sits up and wraps her hand around the hard, velvety smoothness of him. She leans forward to lick the tip, he hisses, and he is pushing her back down onto the bed so he can cover her body with his. Her nipples stiffen when they brush against his warm chest.

“No,” he whispers, his lips trailing wet kisses down her neck and her shoulder. “If you do that, I will come in your mouth.” His hot breath against her skin sends shivers down her spine.

“Okay,” she whimpers. Her legs wrap around his waist and she cants her hips just so, enough for the tip of him to touch the wetness of her.

“I want to come inside you,” he repeats. He slants his lips over hers, and she finds that she doesn’t mind the taste of her. He doesn’t even need to ask her to open her mouth and allow his tongue to dive right in, tasting and exploring and caressing. Electricity surges from his lips down her neck, her arms, her navel, the back of her knees, to the soles of her feet and the tips of her toes.

She moans into his mouth when she feels his fingers gently rub her slit. He peppers her jaw with kisses and she gasps when he slips two fingers into her slick folds. He pumps slowly, enough to coat his fingers, before he pulls them out of her to stroke his hardness.

“Please,” she breathes into his lips. He licks her bottom lip, teasing and slow. Her limbs wrap around him like a sloth to a tree; her legs wind around his waist and her arms rub frantic circles around his back. He is too much, so much man, so much muscle and sinew and Ben—and yet she can’t get enough of him, and the thought is driving her insane. 

She thinks about checking her Fitbit to make sure her heart isn’t drumming against her ribcage at 300 beats per minute, about to send her into tachycardia.

He is rubbing the tip of his cock just outside her lips, further moistening it, but he isn’t pushing into her just yet. “Do you want it slow, sweetheart? Or do you want me to fuck you hard and fast?”

Oh. Dirty talk. 

Rey’s cheeks are burning, and her breaths are becoming shallow. She isn’t used to dirty talk, never had any experience with it. So she doesn’t really know how to respond without mimicking cringe worthy dialogue from porn. Not that it matters anyway, because he is slowly sheathing himself inside of her. 

“Please,” she whispers again. She isn’t exactly sure what she is begging for, but she needs something. 

She needs him. It’s been so long, and he smells so good and feels agonizingly perfect. 

“Rey.” His breath is hot against the shell of her ear. “Baby, you’re so tight.”

He hisses as soon as he bottoms out, his hips slamming into her. For a few seconds, he doesn’t move, just stares at the juncture where their bodies are joined, and Rey looks too. Her legs are parted wide to accommodate his torso, and although the sheer indecency of the image should make her blush, she preens instead.

Then he begins to move. Slowly, at first. He pulls almost all the way out, but slams back so forcefully that Rey slides up against the sheets.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. But he neither changes course nor soften his thrusts. He starts out slow, but the pace picks up quickly, powered by Rey’s quiet mewls and the building pressure of her hands around his arms. He hunches over her and sucks on the thin skin between her neck and shoulder until she is sure he leaves a mark.

Ben doesn’t seem to mind his one-sided dirty talk because he continues babbling exaltations about how tight and wet her cunt is, how sweet and perfect her lips and tits are, and how intoxicating her body is. She attempts to respond to at least one of the praises, but she is suddenly incapable of forming a coherent sentence, and so all she can produce are breathy variations of “yes”, “please”, “fuck”, and “Ben.”

And she can tell that he likes it when she says his name. He growls, he thrusts harder and faster, and he bruises her lips with searing kisses.

“You are so beautiful,” he tells her between kisses. “I’ve always wanted—ever since you checked in—ever since you walked into the bar—”

When he thumbs her clit and lowly whispers how he’d like to cum on the freckles on her face someday, she falls apart, melting like putty in his hands. This orgasm is just as explosive as her first, leaving her knees weak and legs shaking. He doesn’t slow down or stop, the mad glint in his eyes sharper as he continues to fuck her into the mattress.

Once the shockwaves subside and her knees are no longer trembling, he pulls one of her legs up over his shoulder. The new angle allows him to hit that spot that his fingers found when he was sampling her cunt earlier, and it takes only a few more thrusts and her well-placed whimper of “Come for me, Ben” before he tumbles off the edge of the precipice together with her. He drops her leg, bends down, and groans into her shoulder as he empties himself in her.

They lay still for a few seconds, Ben bracing himself up on one arm as Rey struggles to catch her breath underneath him. As he pulls out of her and rolls over to avoid crushing her, Rey thinks about something he said earlier. And perhaps, she was wrong. Maybe she  _ didn’t _ see Ben first.

  
  


*

  
  


There are five missed calls from Rose and Finn, seventeen unread messages in their group chat, a Twitter DM from Rose, and a Google Maps notification regarding a location sharing request from Finn. She will deal with all that later, because right now, she is stark naked in a stranger’s hotel room in a city four hours from home.

Ben fetches her a bottle of water from the mini fridge, and this allows her a spectacular view of his pert backside illuminated by the cool haze of the fridge light. She is grateful that he cannot see the appreciative, lustful gaze that she showers upon his back.

“I think you should stay here,” Ben says in a matter-of-fact tone when he is lying back on the bed beside her.

Rey stops gulping down her water and stares at him. “You mean, like--”

He blinks.

“Like.” Rey waves her hand, as if that gesture conveys the words she can’t find. She sighs. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You said it yourself—your roommates have no sense of privacy or boundaries. I happen to have this room all to myself,” he says as he sweeps his arm around. “And you can ride my face next time.”

Rey almost spits her water out. Oh, yeah. She  _ did _ tell him that.

  
  


*

“What are you talking about? I like your nose,” Rey gushes. Her second glass of Tatooine Sunset is gone, and the huge block of clear ice in his lowball glass has melted into the orange peel and amber liquid.

“There have been a lot of things said about my face, particularly my nose and ears, and not one of them ever started with ‘I love’.”

She can’t remember who or what prompted the discussion of their physical flaws. Perhaps she started it when she lamented about the hot California sun wreaking havoc upon her freckled British skin. Or maybe the conversation stemmed from him correcting her confident guess of six-foot-seven for his height.

“I’m six-three and I can never buy bottoms from retail stores because they don’t have my size. I’m almost certain my tailor stays in business solely because of me,” he had said.

Rey giggles and swirls the watered down pink liquid in her glass. She cocks her head and stares at him brazenly.

“Aquiline. Did you know that’s the term for your nose?” She closes one eye and squints the other as she leans in and examines the profile of his face.

“I’ve heard.” His voice has taken on a huskier quality now that she is just inches away from his cheek. She sniffs--and he smells like a fancier, more expensive version of Old Spice Fiji. Like coconuts, tropical paradise, and sex on the beach. Like something she wants to taste.

She is tipsy and feeling adventurous, and is perfectly aware of the reaction she will elicit with what she is about to say.

Rey crowds him now. She is so close, her breath must tickle his cheek. She drops her voice to a whisper to spare Maz. “I’d like to know what your nose feels like when I’m sitting on your face.”

Ben closes out his tab, takes Rey’s hand and his laptop, and leads her to the elevators. “Let’s find out,” he says.

  
  


*

“I really do have to get going.” She is sorry she says it, because she doesn’t want to go. But she needs to, before her friends do something like overreact and call the cops or start banging on every door in the hotel.

She is pulling her Kylo Ren t-shirt on as Ben observes her from his perch by the headboard. It is a small miracle that he put on his boxer briefs, because if she sees him naked any longer than she has to, she might allow him to entice her into another round. And she really, truly, deeply, needs to go downstairs to find Rose and Finn.

She refuses his offer to walk with her downstairs, and silences his protest by pressing her lips against his. It lasts ten seconds, and there was a bit of tongue, and she was definitely grinning like a loon when they part.

“If you change your mind, you know where this room is.” It is cute how he tries to look suave and nonchalant when the hopeful, pleading look in his brown eyes say otherwise. Rey knows that look, having seen it reflected back at her when she washed up in his bathroom; she is familiar with that tone, because in her head, that’s what she sounds like.

_ Ask me to run away with you. I might consider it. Find me later so we can do this again. _

“I’ll think about it,” she says as she backs away from him.

The smile on his face as he watches her leave almost makes her want to stay.

  
  


*

  
  


She realizes she never got his last name, which she finds weird because his mouth had explored every intimate part of her and possibly ruined all other sexual encounters for the rest of her life. And she still knows very little about him. Rey is not a casual sex kind of girl. In fact, just this morning, she was not any sexual kind of girl at all. One very subpar encounter with a fellow virgin after high school graduation hardly counts, after all.

The experience with Ben leaves her feeling wanton, a scarlet woman prowling the posh halls of Chandrila Hotel, in search of the comrades she abandoned for a mind-blowing romp with a stranger she met at the bar. She feels her armpits getting damp as her mind cycles through the myriad of plausible excuses she can feed to Rose and Finn about her disappearance.

Because there is no way in hell that she is telling her friends the truth. Rose would blush so red that she would put her namesake flower to shame, and Finn… Finn would lapse into a catatonic state, the gremlins in his brain fiercely scrubbing all conjured images of Rey—practically his sister—and her mystery man in various states of undress.

She calls Rose, who picks up after one ring.

“Oh my god, where are you? Are you okay?”

“Rose, relax. I’m fine. I accidentally set my phone to airplane mode when I went out for a walk and lost track of time.” That is a believable lie, wasn’t it? Rey’s voice was firm with a hint of apologetic. She can hear Finn mumbling in the background.

“Where are you both? I’m on my way to our room.”

“We’ll meet you there,” Rose says. And then in a muffled tone that sounds like Rose leaning away from the phone, “Babe, come on, let’s go back to the room.”

The couple beats her there, tackling her as soon she pushes inside.

Rose wraps her small arms around Rey’s waist desperately. “I’m so glad you’re safe! You didn’t answer our calls and texts and we couldn’t find you anywhere. The bartender said you were talking to some guy and when she turned around, you had both disappeared.”

“We were so worried, peanut.” Finn grasps Rey by the shoulders and holds her at arm’s length, examining her from head to toe.

“Finn, stop,” Rey shrugs out of his grasp shyly. “Like I said, I went for a stroll at the park nearby, the one we drove around earlier, and my phone was on airplane mode. I must have accidentally hit a button when I was putting it in my pocket. I’m so sorry if I made you worry.”

Forgiveness comes quickly, especially when Rey offers to treat them to sushi for dinner. “At that fancy restaurant downstairs even. I’ll splurge for you because I love you and I’m truly sorry.”

Rey takes a quick shower afterwards. Now that her friends are relaxed, she doesn’t want either of them to notice that she reeks of sex or Ben’s cologne. She does indulge her waning high and takes a few minutes longer in the shower to tease herself with her fingers until she is panting against the cold, wet tiles.

It is seven o’clock and the hotel’s sushi restaurant is, miraculously,  _ not _ packed with convention attendees.

“We got lucky and came here before the dinner rush,” Rose marvels. “We’re so lucky.”

However, it becomes clear exactly why there is a lack of diners. Rey’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when she peruses the menu and sees that their cheapest roll is $22. A glass of soda is $8 and an order of the six-piece gyoza appetizer is $14.

Rose seems to sense her shock. “We can eat somewhere else,” she offers. “I heard from a few people earlier that Dex’s Diner a few blocks away makes a mean Hungry Hutt breakfast sandwich. And they serve it all day!”

Rey shakes her head vehemently. “No, I promised sushi so we’re getting sushi.” She even bangs her hand against the table, which startles the server who had materialized from nowhere.

They all order glasses of water and skip the appetizers. There is a lot of lip biting and nervous glances between Rose and Finn, and a lot of mental math in Rey’s head as they each rattle off their orders. She thinks she can afford $100 max on this dinner, but she will have to move around some funds from her savings to checking accounts before they leave.

The server, who introduces himself as Mitaka, repeats their order of one hand roll each. “Will that be all?” 

Mitaka looks crestfallen when all three nod. He must think they are cheapskates who will leave less than 15% tip at the end of the night. Nevertheless, he leaves a menu on the table. Just in case.

“So,” Finn drags that ‘o’ out, like he is expecting Rey to continue a juicy conversation she doesn’t remember them having.

“Who was the guy you were talking to at the bar?” Rose finishes for him. The couple lean in together, eyes wide and curious and gleaming with scandalous delight.

Rey’s cheeks feel a few degrees warmer. “What guy?” She thinks she doesn’t sound nervous, but Rose rolls her eyes.

“The one the bartender said bought you a drink--”

“And you shouldn’t accept drinks from strangers, peanut. We watched that date rape drug documentary together, remember?” Finn interjects, his eyebrows practically knitting together. 

“But the bartender said he never touched the drink and she prepared it herself so nothing sketch happened.” Rose rubs Finn’s arm to placate him, because Rey is mortified and wincing and shrinking into her side of the booth.

“Nothing happened,” Rey says. “He bought me a drink because it was just me and him there, I thanked him, and we talked about  _ Galaxy Wars _ for a minute. And that was it.”

Rose deflates. Her hair and cheeks visibly droop along with her smile. “That was it?”

Finn exhales. “So he didn’t drug you and drag you into a room?”

“I’m in one piece, aren’t I?”

“He didn’t try to talk you into a sex trafficking gig?”

“Nope, he was a perfectly fine gentleman who is here on a business retreat.”

“He didn’t ask for your number or anything?” Rose sounds hopeful, and Rey knows it’s the romantic in her. She has been the subject of a handful of wine-induced confessions where Rose bemoans that giddy spark that comes only with new crushes and first kisses and shy hand-holding. Being in a two-year relationship has sucked some of the mystery and excitement from Rose and Finn’s lovelife, and Rose clearly craves that quixotic delirium again, even if she has to live vicariously through Rey.

“No. We just talked and I went for a walk alone.” Rey feels bad lying to Rose--but perhaps someday, when they’re wrinkly and playing BINGO in their retirement home, she can turn to Rose and whisper into her hearing aid, “By the way, remember that time you and Finn couldn’t find me at the  _ Galaxy Wars  _ convention? I totally snuck upstairs with the guy who bought me a drink and I let him shag my brains out. BINGO!”

Their water and rolls arrive, and Rey listens as Rose and Finn gush about the panel, the cast, and theories about the (now confirmed) Kylo Ren miniseries. She nods, gasps, and laughs when she needs to, and it’s like they never ran into a hiccup earlier. Her sushi is good, or at least she deludes herself into thinking it is based on its price tag.

Mitaka eventually returns to their table with ramekins filled with light green ice cream. All three eye each other, wondering if one of them ordered dessert behind their backs.

“Your bill has already been paid for. Please enjoy our matcha green tea ice cream,” Mitaka says, smiling warmly and oblivious to the puzzled look on their faces.

“I’m sorry, you must be mistaken. We didn’t order these. And what do you mean our bill has been paid?” Rey is scratching her head and looks around the restaurant, but none of the other diners are looking in their direction. She had expected someone would be waving at her, bellowing “I’m your good Samaritan” across the room.

“Yes, it has been billed to Room 7656,” Mitaka supplies.

Finn frowns. “Wait, that’s not our room number.”

Rose says something else, but Rey doesn’t hear it. Because Rey is craning her neck to search the restaurant harder. Because Room 7656 is Ben’s room, and if the bill was sent to Ben’s room. That means he knows she is in the restaurant, and if he knows she is in the restaurant, it means he is here. Or was. She doesn’t see his telltale raven hair towering over the rest of the diners.

“We may be able to reverse the charge, but I would need manager approval, and she’s not here right now. If you would like to wait, she should be back in an hour.” Mitaka is now looking at Rose and Finn like they must have lost their minds. Who would turn down a free meal, even if they think it is paid for by mistake?

“Thank you,” Rey interjects and eyes Mitaka pointedly before any more arguing can ensue. He takes this as his cue to retreat and attend to another table.

“Rey, do you know what’s going on?” Rose asks between spoonfuls of ice cream.

She just couldn’t pile on more lies, not when they just spent the past hour having a good time bonding over  _ Galaxy Wars _ . But a  _ white _ lie should be fine. “I  _ think _ it’s that guy from the bar. He must have been here earlier and thought it would be nice to buy us a meal, too.”

Finn’s eyes narrow. “Babe, stop eating the ice cream.” Rose stops mid-spoon and pouts.

“Oh, stop. I highly doubt they’re poisoned. See?” Rey shovels a big bite into her mouth. “Rose, as you were.”

“Did you see him? Why didn’t he say hi? What does he look like?” Rose whips her head around, as if she would recognize Ben anyway.

“I didn’t see him. If I do run into him tomorrow, I’ll make sure to introduce you. I promise, he’s harmless.” Rey smiles as Rose digs back in and Finn picks up his spoon.

When they leave the restaurant, Rey doesn’t even mind that Rose and Finn are back to holding hands and walking just a few paces ahead of her. So they don’t notice when Mitaka runs up to Rey and presses a hard plastic card into her hand.

“He said you might need this,” is all Mitaka says before he scurries back into the restaurant. Rey bites back a wry smile as she looks down at the keycard for Room 7656.

  
  


*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tattooine Sunset](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Tatooine_Sunset) [non-alcoholic recipe](http://heidiswanderings.blogspot.com/2014/07/tatooine-sunset.html)


	2. Chapter 2

Rey is restless. Her foot bobs impatiently under the duvet and she is biting the inside of her cheeks raw. She steals glances at the alarm clock on the nightstand between her bed and Rose and Finn’s, its bright LCD ticking up to 10:00 PM, then 10:20 PM, then 10:37 PM. Next to her—Finn has passed out, snoring lightly with his mouth open. Rose is starting to nod off, not even paying attention to the late night local news feature regarding the  _ Galaxy Wars  _ convention on TV anymore.

An hour ago, there was a moment of celebration when Finn caught a shot panning from the cast panel to the audience, the camera sweeping across him and Rose sitting in rapt attention in their seats. Rose screamed and Finn flew straight to the Access Chandrila YouTube channel to find a clip of the story.

Rey checks the time again. It is 11:05 PM, a little past their regular bedtime. They’d had a long day and will have an early start tomorrow, so she guesses Rose will be turning in very soon.

Finally, at half past eleven, Rose bids her good night and switches off the TV, then slides down the bed until a symphony of snores envelops the room. Rey waits ten minutes, enough for Rose to slip into a light sleep, before she slowly rolls off the bed. 

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispers to nobody as she scribbles a quick note on the hotel stationery:  _ Can’t sleep. Going to gym downstairs. Brb! _

She shoves on her sneakers and grabs a cardigan from the closet, then very silently slips out of the room.

She isn’t exactly dressed attractively, but she hadn’t planned to take trips outside the safety of their hotel room at night when she packed her sleep clothes. She is in a thin black shirt, soft blue shorts that graze her mid-thigh, and her work cardigan that had the logo emblazoned on the front. She wraps the cardigan tighter around her chest—perhaps she shouldn’t have skipped the bra. Who works out braless? Rose will have questions if she is caught, but it is too late to backtrack now.

The keycard in her hand seems to thrum in delight the closer she gets to Room 7656. Or maybe her hand is just shaking with nerves. She is thankful that there aren’t many people roaming the halls of the hotel at this time, no one in the elevator as she pushes the button to the seventh floor, no one to judge her midnight romp.

A million ‘what if’s’ race through her mind as the lights on the panel climb up. What if he’s asleep? What if he’s not even in the room? What if he already has a guest in there? What if Rose is awake right now and is reading her note and decides to check the gym?

Suddenly this all starts to sound like a bad idea. She should go down to reception and turn in the keycard, tell them she found it on the floor during the convention, and actually go to the gym and exercise her horniness away. Then she can slink back to her room, forget about Ben, and just enjoy the rest of the convention with her friends.

Her finger is inches away from pushing the button to the second floor when the door opens with a ding. The large sign for ‘7’ on the wall directly across her shines brightly, beckoning her to step out of the elevator and come closer. 

_ Welcome, Rey, _ it seems to say. _ Come get fucked. _

Rey’s body is floating inches from the ground when she follows the signs and the numbers on the door, returning to solid ground once she is in front of Room 7656. She stares at the plaque on the door, and then at the peephole, and wonders if Ben is on the other side staring back at her. 

Her heart skips and her pulse quickens—this isn’t like her at all. Twelve hours ago, she would not have thought she would be sneaking around the prestigious Chandrila Hotel in the middle of the night, walking into a stranger’s room for a good time. But the thought excites her, because she is finally doing her own thing apart from Rose and Finn, and she is enjoying it. Or—she enjoyed the first encounter. No promises on this second one.

She waves the keycard against the handle—the dot of red light turns green and the door beeps as it unlocks. She walks into a dark room bathed only in sheer moonlight, the window curtains pulled back to a view of Chandrila’s twinkling skyline and the pale moon peeking from behind wispy dark clouds.

It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, so she uses her memory and her outstretched arms to navigate the room until her fingers find soft cotton sheets.

“Ben?” she whispers, just in case he is sleeping. If he is, she’ll take it as a sign to leave him be. The room is deathly silent.

She runs her hands across the cool sheets—she grazes something warm, soft, and hairy. At the same time, her eyes start to form a blurry outline of Ben’s motionless form on the bed.

“Ben?” She calls softly, just a little louder than a whisper. He doesn’t move or respond.

She moves to shake him, but gasps when her vision finally clears. Ben is lying on top of the sheets, and he is stark naked. His alabaster skin shines in the moonlight, his raven tresses a halo around his peacefully sleeping face.

He  _ is _ sleeping, so she should leave. She should leave the keycard on his nightstand and back away slowly. Away from his naked body, so handsome and so tempting. She doesn’t need to dip her fingers down to know that she is wet and dripping for him. Her gaze trails down his exposed neck, his sculpted chest and abs that she remembers feeling rock hard to the touch, to the prominent vee that points lead her eyes from his torso straight down to his cock. Even flaccid he is still impressive.

Her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip as she stares at the purple tip of his cock. She has never actually seen one up close and personal before. Her one fumbled experience after high school was quick, barely any foreplay, and definitely no exploration of body parts during or after. Ben’s commanding cock is enticing, and it awakens urges in her that she didn’t even know she had. 

Such as her unexpected need to taste him. 

Just a little bit. 

He won’t even notice.

She leans in as far as she can on the bed, bracing her arms on either side of his hips. He doesn’t shift when her weight dips the mattress slightly. The tip of her tongue gently swipes the tip—he still doesn’t move. Emboldened by sheer curiosity, she wraps one hand around the tender shaft and raises him to her mouth. There is no hesitation as she wraps her lips around the head, swirling her tongue around it.

Above her, Ben stirs and his cock twitches. She stills. When he doesn’t move again, she resumes her exploration. She leans forward and takes more of him in her mouth. It’s easy since he is not fully erect yet, so she is able to take some of him until her nose hits his navel. She inhales sharply before she pushes forward, her lips finally wrapping around the base with the tip of him tickling the back of her throat.

_ So this is what it feels like _ , she thinks. He is hard steel wrapped in a smooth case, with a captivating clean and musky scent that invades her nostrils and flips a switch in her head that electrifies all the nerve endings in her body, and sends a wave of heat straight to her core. She can practically feel slick soaking the gusset of her sleep shorts and trailing down her thighs.

She grips him by the base and pulls her head back so she could suck in a breath, and then dives back in. He grows harder with each pull of her lips, and she knows that if she keeps going, he will eventually wake up to her surprise blowjob.

Ben is almost fully erect and leaking pre-cum onto her tongue when she hears it.

“Rey,” a whisper, so soft it barely registers over the steady sound of her enthusiastic sucking.

He is still in her mouth when she peers up and sees that he is now awake and looking at her. His broad shoulders are tense and pulled back, and his eyes are half-lidded but she recognizes the hunger glinting madly in them.

Slowly, she slips him out of her mouth, kicks off her shoes, and clambers onto the bed until she is settled between his legs.

“Rey.” He starts to sit up and reach for her, but she shakes her head and halts his movements with a firm hand on his chest.

“Let me.” She feels the muscles under her hand contract as he sharply inhales and exhales. Without a word, he settles back down, leaning on his elbows so he can watch her.

Despite her confident commandeering of his anatomy, Rey hadn’t actually banked on having an audience. She avoids eye contact as she wraps around him once again and pumps from base to tip slowly. If her inexperience happens to result in a grip that is too tight, or teeth grazing him, or unattractive slobber, he will have to speak up.

Her momentary pause earlier has dried some of her spit, so when her dry hand catches on his skin, he hisses. As a quick apology, she ducks down and takes him back into the moist heat of her mouth. That earns her the pleasurable sound of him moaning her name.

She struggles to take him all the way in now that he is fully erect, so she supplements with both hands pumping him from the base as her mouth and tongue swirl and flutter from the top. When she checks on him again, he has thrown his head back and is panting her name to the ceiling.

“Rey, sweetheart.” Rey slows her ministrations to indicate that she is listening. “I want you to ride me.”

She leans back and meets his gaze. “Alright, after—”

“No. Right now. Please,” he pleads, leaning forward to wrap his hand around her arm gently. He tugs, and she crawls up until she is straddling him, his cock straining hard against her wet shorts and her belly. When he nuzzles her jaw and inhales deeply, Rey feels the stirring of heat between her legs flare up. “Please, baby. Let me come inside you again.”

She nods and then she is hurriedly stripping off her clothes with no help from him. He gets in the way—kissing the thin skin of her neck and suckling on her nipples while she struggles to peel off her cardigan and shirt, and impatiently stroking her dripping folds with a thick finger while she pulls off her shorts one leg at a time.

As soon as they hear her shorts land somewhere in the farthest corner of the room, Ben grips her by the waist with one hand and strokes his cock with the other. Rey hovers above him, biting her lip as the tip of him slots between her slick folds. When he doesn’t guide her down immediately, she squirms.

Puzzled, Rey looks down at him. He chooses that same time to crane his neck up and capture her lips in a kiss that steals her breath with how unexpected and gentle it is. Her lips immediately part to allow his tongue access to caress hers. Kissing Ben is an experience on its own, but then again, everything with Ben is new to her. He is both gentle and rough, insistent and careful, and all around fireworks and heat and musk.

When Rey feels the slight pressure of his hand on her waist signaling her to make her move, she is happy to oblige. She impales herself on him, and they both groan in mutual pleasure when her tight, wet heat surrounds his hardness.

“So fucking tight.” Ben hisses against her neck. His hands are on her hips, gripping her tight as she starts to grind against him. When she sheathes him back into her with a little too much gusto, he growls and bites down on the round of her shoulder.

Spurred on by his animalistic reaction to her gyrations, Rey decides to add an experimental twist to her hips. The action hits a sensitive spot inside her that makes her yelp in surprise.

Ben wrenches away from her shoulder to plant a kiss on the sensitive spot on her jaw, just beneath her ear. One of his hands moves to the back of her neck as he whispers, his breath tickling her swollen bottom lip, “You like riding me, sweetheart?”

He thrusts up to meet her hips, and she cries out in ecstasy. The yes that rips out of her throat is ragged and choked. She dissolves into pants and gasps, punctuated by wanton moans as her grinding hips meets his upward thrusts.

Ben pulls her in for another kiss and she gasps his name into his mouth. She hungrily battles his tongue with her own, eager to taste more of him, to memorize the feel of his lips against her own. Because who knows—this could be the last time she’ll see him. They are driving back to D’Qar after tomorrow and Ben… Well, he could be anywhere, too.

His hand on her waist moves between them until his thumb is swiping against her sensitive swollen nub. He swallows her moan when he presses, and she wrenches her lips away to toss her head back and gulp in air, the action pushing her chest into his face. His plush lips eagerly clamp on her breast, suckling the tender skin just above her nipple.

This feels good, but it’s not enough, and Rey’s knees are starting to throb. She needs more—if she could just maybe lift up her hips a bit more, maybe she can slam down harder. Or if she stretches out one leg, she can change the angle—

“Ben,” she pants. She tightens her grip on his shoulders as she bears down harder on him. His thumb on her clit applies more pressure. “Ben, please.”

“Tell me what you need, sweetheart.” His breath on her pebbled nipple is a balm to her soul, and she almost says nothing as she focuses on the comforting sensation of his lips, but he jolts her out of her reverie when he changes the pressure of his fingers on her clit.

“Please,” she sobs. “Fuck me harder.”

Ben grunts, one hand moving to her back as he flips her over until she is lying flat on the bed and staring up at his kiss-swollen lips and hungry eyes curtained by his dark locks. He doesn’t say anything as he sits back on his haunches and holds on to her hips. Then he starts to piston in and out of her hard and fast—the position ensures that his cock hits her g-spot just right.

Delirious with so much stimulation and surrounded with the scent of Ben all over the pillows and sheets, Rey cups her breasts and tilts her hips higher, earning a throaty groan from him. His hand returns to her clit, and it isn’t long before Rey falls apart in a fit of strangled cries and spasming legs.

“Keep going,” she manages to say amid her desperate pants for breath. She cants her hips to spur Ben into continuing his thrusting, which had slowed down into shallow pumps as she rode out her orgasm. But she is now recovering and less sensitive, and she needs him to come just as she did. He is smiling down at her proudly, and she can’t help but shoot him a grin, small and thankful.

“Come for me, Ben,” she begs. 

This is the only permission he needs apparently, because he rapidly climbs back to his previous speed and intensity. With Rey urging him on with her little noises and the unwavering stare of her hazel eyes, it only takes a few seconds before he falters and cries out a curse. His hips still against hers, and she feels his cock pulse between her folds as he empties himself within her.

They are both breathing heavily when he finally pauses and laughs. “You,” he pants, “are a force of nature.”

She wonders if he can tell that she is blushing in the dark.

  
  


*

  
  


“Do you always sleep in the nude? Is this how you lure women into your hotel room?”

Rey is sprawled halfway across Ben, using his shoulder as a pillow and throwing her leg across his. He has one arm wrapped tightly around her waist and the other absent-mindedly stroking her arm that is draped across his chest.

Ben chuckles at her question. “No. Just tonight. And I don’t typically do this.”

“What? Sleep with a stranger in every city you visit?” She is teasing, but she is scared of the answer. She wishes she hadn’t said anything at all, because a part of her is repulsed at the possibility that she thinks of her as nothing more than a notch on his bedpost.

“I don’t usually have the time for hookups. I travel too much, work too hard, and sleep very little.”

_ Oh. _ “So, what am I?”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, and she thinks he has fallen asleep but he breathes in deeply and says, “I made time.”

She hides the small triumphant smile on her lips against his chest, pretending to place a kiss above his heart.

“I wanted to sit on your face, but I didn’t think smothering you in your sleep would have been very nice, especially since you kindly paid for dinner.”

His chest rumbles with his quiet laughter, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Thank you for that, by the way. You should've come over and said hi.”

“I didn’t want to disturb your meal.”

He kisses the top of her head, and she finds that she likes this sweet gesture despite its heartwarming intimacy. It is strange to admit to herself, but she can take dirty, passionate kisses and his cock in her mouth, but somehow an innocent kiss such as the one to her scalp feels too familiar.

They lie in silence for a while, completely content on being cocooned within each other’s warmth. Rey allows herself to think that this night is endless, that she doesn’t have to eventually get up, get dressed, and get out of his life. He is an intriguing man, and she did enjoy his company even before she found out that he is the patron saint of incredible, mind-blowing sex. 

She is going to be sad when they are no longer in each other’s orbit. The thought alone wraps around her chest like a vise and squeezes painfully.

“When are you leaving?” she asks.

“In the morning.”

His tone is steady, but his grip around her waist tightens and the hand caressing her arm stiffens.

“Okay. Okay,” she says quietly, unsure of what to say next. When she asked the question, she hadn’t really thought out the entire conversation. Does she want him to stay? He probably can’t, although she doesn’t know anything about him and what he is capable of doing. 

And there’s the rub—she doesn’t really know him. By now, she knows what his tongue and his skin taste like. She is familiar with every corded muscle of his body, and she knows how to lick him just right so he moans her name in a way that makes her toes curl. She knows what he looks and sounds like when he orgasms, and she knows that the vein in his bicep bulges out when he is thumbing her clit hard and fast. He is a fantastic fuck in a city hours away from hers and she might never see him again. Getting attached at this stage could only spell disaster.

That’s why it hurts when she finally gets up the courage to say, “I should probably get going.”

She starts to peel herself off him, but he maintains his hold on her and nuzzles his nose deeper into her hair.

“No one’s looking for you,” he mumbles.

That’s true. Her phone hasn’t gone off yet. If her roommates had woken up and found her missing, they might find the note first and search for her downstairs. If they don’t find her there, they will call or text her.

“Sleep here. Stay with me. I have an alarm for five. You can sneak back into your room then.”

“Ben, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” And yet she is settling her head back down against his shoulder.

He sighs dramatically. “Fine, I’ll set an alarm for four-thirty.”

“Ben…”

“Rey.”

“Four. Five is cutting it too close. They like to be showered and dressed in time for the continental breakfast.”

“You know that runs until nine.”

“They want dibs on the first batch of bacon—I don’t know. Ask them.”

Ben releases her arm and reaches for his phone that is on the nightstand. She watches as he sets a new alarm for four o’clock as she requested.

“Since I only have less than four hours left with you, forgive me if there won’t be much sleeping.”

He swallows her peals of laughter with his lips, as he tackles her back down into the mattress and resolves to spend the next few hours committing every curve, dip, and flare of her body to memory.

  
  


*

  
  


Tinkling chimes that slowly crescendo to a chorus of bells pulls Rey out of her slumber. For a brief second she forgets where she is, her groggy brain slow to process her surroundings. She pieces bits of information together:  _ Galaxy Wars _ convention—Chandrila Hotel—sneaking out at midnight—Ben.

Ben.

The delicious soreness between her legs that she hadn’t immediately noticed helps her memory along. Ben is stirring next to her, groaning into the pillow as one muscled arm slams down on his phone and swipes the prompt that dismisses the offending alarm.

They both lie in bed facing each other, unmoving despite being awake. She offers him a small, shy smile, which he returns. Then she leans in and gives him a chaste kiss that makes the taste of him linger on her lips long after she retreats.

He doesn’t say anything as she resolutely rolls out of bed and switches on a lamp to aid in her hunt for her haphazardly discarded clothes. She dresses in silence, very slowly, to savor the last few minutes before they exchange their goodbyes and she has to make the walk of shame down to the second floor.

When she slips her feet into her shoes, he gets out of bed to put on a pair of pajama pants.

She considers giving him her number so they can keep in touch—but she ultimately decides against it. She has never been in a romantic relationship, and she doesn’t want to start with a long distance one. She would be terrible at it despite her certain skill at patiently waiting long stretches of time between sexual encounters.

She straightens out and runs her hands down her cardigan to smoothen it down. Ben has a thoughtful look as he studies her.

“What’s that logo?” he jerks his chin towards the lapel of her cardigan.

“Resistance Labs.” It is a young company, virtually unknown to the rest of the country but slowly making a name for itself in the state. Rey started working there just two weeks ago when Rose put in a good word to her department head.

“You work there?” He crosses his arms and leans against the edge of the bed.

“Sure.” It is a non-commital answer. They don’t know each other’s last name, so there’s no need to exchange any more identifiable information such as employers. Although she’s sure the concierge can provide her his employer’s name if she just asks for the only business retreat held concurrent with the  _ Galaxy Wars _ convention.

“Well,” she says a little too cheerfully as she slaps her hands against her thighs. “Guess this is goodbye.”

Ben just nods. The look in his eyes is gentle, and it makes Rey’s chest hurt a little. “Or see you soon,” he suggests softly.

She smiles at the hopeful lilt in his voice. “Maybe.”

He pushes off the bed and steps to her until she has to crane her neck up to meet his eyes. His thick arms wrap around her, crushing her body to his and pressing her cheek against his chest where she can hear his heartbeat. He is solid and strong, and he smells a bit of her. She can’t remember ever being hugged so intimately—not from Rose or Finn or anybody else—and she knows with resolute sadness that she will crave this feeling for the rest of time.

Ben kisses the top of her head, like he knows of her newfound fondness for it, and her eyes flutter shut. He shifts, and then his lips are on hers, achingly bittersweet and filled with her unspoken thoughts.  _ It’s crazy but I think I’ll miss you. Be with me. Tell me your name. I want to see you again. _

When they part, Ben flashes her a smile that bares slightly crooked teeth and crinkles the corners of his eyes. Rey thinks she’s never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

“I hope we meet again, Ben.” It slips out of her, but it is nonetheless true. The pressure behind her eyes start to build so she buries her face in his chest again.

“I’m sure we will, Rey.”

  
  


*

  
  


Rose and Finn are still fast asleep when Rey slips back into the room. She crumples the stationery on the dresser and tosses it into the wastebasket before she climbs into her bed and pulls the duvet over her head. Here, she can contain the lingering scent of Ben for as long as she can before it disappears. Here, no one can hear her sobs.

When Rose shakes her awake an hour later, she tries not to let her fatigue show.

“Why are you wearing your cardigan?” Rose asks.

“I got cold in the middle of the night.”

Rose shrugs, accepting the flimsy excuse. “Anyway, get dressed. Breakfast starts in about fifteen minutes. Then we have to get back here so Finn and I can put on our suits.”

The rest of the day is a hazy blur of colors and costumes. Rey is so sleepy, she doesn’t even really pay attention to anything they’re doing, but she pulls herself together every time Rose whips out her camera for an Instagram Story or a Snapchat video.

She offers to get in the long line for Captain Phasma autographs, figuring she can take advantage of the slow moving queue to catch a quick nap while she stands. She prefers this to trailing behind Rose and Finn. She is especially thankful when they attend another panel discussion, because she is able to talk Finn into letting her don his Stormtrooper helmet “for fun”--in reality, she is snoozing in her seat and no one is none the wiser.

All in all, despite being less than a hundred percent during most of the day, Rey admits she had fun (for the parts she was lucid enough for).

She passes out as soon as she hurls itself into the back of the Lyft on their way to Dex’s Diner for a celebratory dinner. Finn shakes her awake and hooks his arm around hers as they walk to the restaurant and slide into a booth. Rey points to a random item on the menu before resting her forehead against the cool surface of the table, intent on stealing a few more minutes to catnap.

“Rey, sweetie, at least sleep on this mat.” Rose is lifting her head and sliding a paper placemat with a word search puzzle printed on it under her forehead. “We don’t know if this table has been scrubbed clean.”

Rey grumbles something incoherent and naps for what she feels like an hour, but in reality, could have only been ten minutes. Finn slides a cup of coffee and a plate of what looks like the beefiest sandwich she has ever laid her eyes on.

“Don’t look at me. You ordered that,” Finn says. “Shawda club sandwich.”

Rey makes a face as she dumps four packets of sweetener and nearly the entire contents of the creamer pitcher into her cup. She sips on her coffee and nibbles on the corners of her sandwich in silence. Rey hungrily observes Rose and Finn’s shared order of the famous Hungry Hutt breakfast sandwich with protato wedges on the side and a steaming bowl of Nyork chowder.

“Did you not sleep well last night, peanut?” Finn asks. He slurps his bright green photon fizzle, the milk-green orbs bouncing around in the bottom of the glass as he sucks eagerly. “Rose said you were cold last night. We can turn up the heat. It was a bit chilly now that I think about it.”

“I’m just tired. So much running around today,” Rey supplies. “I had so much fun, though. Thank you for taking me with you.” She gleefully holds out her wrist to show them her Fitbit. “I even got 23,584 steps in--that’s record-breaking.”

They all clink their beverages in cheers and drink heartily. When Finn excuses himself to wash his hands, Rose leans across the table and nudges Rey’s foot gently with hers.

“Is this about your late night gym session?” Rose isn’t smiling, but she doesn’t look upset or worried either. She does have that look--the one with the wide imploring eyes and knitted brows and slightly pouted lips. The one that begs Rey for the juicy true story. “Or early morning. I couldn’t tell. It was around three when I saw it.”

Rey hesitates to answer, instead opting to stare at the caramel liquid swirling in her cup. Rose rests her hand on Rey’s arm assuredly. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I would never judge.”

Something in Rey threatens to snap. She is sleepy, her feet hurt, her cunt still throbs from the punishing pleasures it endured that morning, and frankly, she is still sad about Ben. It had taken all of her self-control to not make up a lame excuse to hover by reception after breakfast in hopes of catching Ben one last time as he checks out.

“Did you go see the guy?” Rose’s question is a whisper. She even ducks down a little so no one else hears.

Rey sighs. “Yes, Rose. I went up to 7656 after you and Finn fell asleep. I didn’t get back until four in the morning.”

Rose’s mouth is as round as it can get, and her eyebrows disappear into her hairline. And suddenly Rey finds it hard to stop the ensuing word vomit.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. And I know it’s stupid that I even went up there without telling you because what if he  _ did  _ drug me and stuff me into his suitcase and sell me for two million dollars? Right now I could be crawling out of the suitcase somewhere in Russia and Finn will be all ‘I told you so’—”

“Rey, first of all, you’re worth at least  _ three _ million—” They both chuckle. “And, second of all, I remember his room number. I would’ve tracked you down if I needed to.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Of course not. I’m happy you had a great time here. I know how much you hate  _ Galaxy Wars _ —”

“I don’t hate it—”

“—and you must’ve been bored out of your mind. But you stuck it out with us, and at the end of the day, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Rey slams back the rest of her sweet coffee. The exhilaration of unloading her weekend dalliance mixed with a potent combination of sugar and coffee has injected a burst of energy in her. “It feels good that you know.”

“Me, too. Because now you can tell me—how was it? I’ve never had a one night stand. You have to tell me.”

Rey gasps dramatically and grabs a piece of protato wedge to flick at Rose’s chest. “I am  _ not _ going to kiss and tell!”

Rose flicks a wedge back. “What does he look like, at least?”

“Tall, handsome, big hands.” Rey swoons, pulling an image from her head of Ben’s hands spanning her bare waist as she rides him. Those same hands slide up to cup her breasts as she bounces on his cock to bring him to completion.

She must be blushing because Rose is studying her face as she giggles and pedals her dainty feet under the table excitedly. “Did you get his number? Are you two meeting up again?”

The smile from Rey’s lips falter. There’s that feeling again--the sadness. Emptiness. The feeling that she fucked up and there is no turning back to correct her mistake. 

“No, we didn’t exchange last names or phone numbers. So, I won’t be able to find him and vice versa.” Somehow, saying it out loud hurts more. “It wouldn’t have worked out anyway. I live in D’Qar and he travels for work. I think he is based in Coruscant, actually, so that’s over six hours away. Just not possible.”

Rose frowns. It is amazing how visible her deflations are, from her smile to the twinkle in her eyes to the curl of her hair. “I’m sorry. Did you like him?”

Rey pokes her sandwich, refusing to meet Rose’s eyes. “Yes,” she says softly. “Very much.”

They are both quiet, a moment of silence for Rey’s loss. A hope and a dream grounded before it even took flight. Rose perks up when Finn slides back into the booth, but Rey can tell that her wonderful, lovely empathetic friend’s smile is strained.

“So, I’ve decided. We’re going to get some of that Sic-Six-layer cake. And Rey gets her own slice,” Rose declares. Finn claps and whoops, and Rey laughs along with him.

  
  


*

  
  


Rose and Finn are queueing behind several other convention goers at the reception area for checkout so Rey excuses herself and wanders off to the concierge booth.

The concierge, Tallie, offers Rey a warm smile as she approaches. “Good morning. How may I be of service today?”

“Would you be able to tell me what company had a business retreat here a couple of days ago?”

“Sure. Let me take a look for you.” Tallie types into her computer and clicks around. “Hmm...I see a two-day retreat with Snoke and Palpatine, LLP in our Lake Andrasha Conference Room on the third floor,” she offers. She continues to click around some more. “Looks like that’s it. All our other venues were reserved for the  _ Galaxy Wars _ convention.”

“Snoke and Palpatine, LLP,” Rey recites as Tallie nods. “Thank you.”

She walks back to Rose and Finn just in time for reception to close out their transaction. Finn hauls their bags into the trunk of Rey’s car parked just outside the wide glass doors, and within five minutes, they are driving away from Chandrila Hotel and back on the road to D’Qar.

  
  


*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Shawda club sandwich](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Shawda_club_sandwich)  
> [Hungry Hutt breakfast sandwich](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/%22Hungry_Hutt%22_breakfast_sandwich)  
> [protato wedge](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Protato_wedge)  
> [Photon Fizzle](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Photon_fizzle) [recipe](http://www.innatthecrossroads.com/star-wars-photon-fizzle/)


	3. Chapter 3

_ Three months later… _

Rey glares at the laminated sign that Facilities posted above the sink of the first floor break room.

_If you see a spill, WIPE IT UP._ _If you dirty a dish, PUT IT IN THE DISHWASHER. If you take the last of the coffee, MAKE A NEW POT_. 

She snorts, thankful for Rose and the Keurig Mini at her desk. Ever since Rey got transferred to upper management on the second floor, she has had to make the trek downstairs multiple times a day for coffee, but she welcomes the much needed exercise. She gets her steps in so her Fitbit quits bugging her to go for a walk, and she doesn’t have to force the bitter generic swill in the break room down her throat.

_ Dishes left in the sink at the end of the day will be tossed in the trash _ , the sign’s footnote threatens.

“A web of lies,” Rey mutters as her eyes sweep across the cabal of unwashed coffee mugs lining the walls of the sink. She is positive that the yellow mug with the coffee dregs caked in the bottom had set up camp in the sink since Thursday last week.

She washes her coffee mug the best she can without knocking over any of the dishes in the sink. The next one she plans on taking will be her third cup before noon--work has been hectic the past quarter, and it doesn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon since they secured the Essowyn Medical Foundation account.

Rose is not at her desk when Rey refills her mug, so she scribbles  _ Miss you _ with a smiley face on a sticky note and slaps it onto the forehead of the  _ Galaxy Wars _ General Hux Funko Pop figurine guarding her monitor.

Rey makes her journey back to the second floor where she is the new executive assistant of their division’s chief. It’s good work, easy, and doesn’t require a PhD or a master’s degree. She just needs to field her boss’ calls, and coordinate the dozens of daily meetings in all the conference rooms across the building’s four floors.

Rey is about to slide into her desk chair when she hears her name being called.

“Rey? Are you back?”

Rey sets down the coffee mug on her desk, grabs her company-issued tablet, and rushes to the office across hers. The canary yellow door is slightly cracked ajar, so she pokes her head in through the opening. “Hi, I’m back. Sorry, I just grabbed coffee and lunch downstairs. Do you need anything?”

“Oh, you already had lunch?”

Rey smiles brightly. “Yes, there’s a basket of mini muffins in the first floor break room. Would you like me to grab you one? They have blueberry and almond.”

Her boss gives her a smile similar to one that a mother might give a toddler presenting their first macaroni sculpture from daycare. “Honey, a muffin is not lunch. But that’s actually why I called you in. How would you like to accompany me for lunch at Oga’s Cantina. I have a…meeting.”

Rey’s eyes widen in surprise. “Now?”

“Yes, now. The car is downstairs. You can have your muffin for dessert.”

She swipes through the day’s calendar on the tablet, shaking her head. “Miss Organa, I don’t see this lunch meeting in the agenda.” She taps around some more, swiping through the entire week. “Is this new? Perhaps I scheduled it for a different day by mistake.”

Leia Organa ushers the frazzled Rey out of the office and locks her office door behind her. “Don’t worry about it, dear. This one just came up today. Now, follow me. Let’s not keep Poe waiting or he’ll drive away without us.”

  
  


*

  
  


Leia is texting by holding her phone at arm’s length and pecking at the keyboard with her pointer finger. Rey is almost tempted to grab the older woman’s phone and type for her, or at least point out the life-changing speech-to-text functionality.

“You kids,” Leia mutters after a while, tossing her phone into her handbag and shaking her head tiredly. Rey watches as Leia peers out the window and watches the midtown skyline blur past. 

“I don’t know when this texting thing became the norm. I personally prefer calling, but I’m what people your age call a—” Leia gestures lazily with her hand, imploring Rey to fill in the blanks. But Rey just stares blankly. “A boomer, is it?”

Rey bites her lip to prevent a chortle from escaping. “I wouldn’t call you that, Miss Organa.”

Leia leans back into her seat and rolls her eyes at Rey. “How many times do I have to tell you—”

“To call you Leia.” Rey intones. She decides that Leia is the chillest boss she has ever had the pleasure to work with. Her supervisor at the fast food restaurant she used to work at insisted on being referred to as “Sir”, “Sir Unkar”, or “Mister Plutt”. He also didn’t adhere to legally mandated break times, fudging his subordinates’ timecards in the process. Leia is a far cry from Unkar indeed.

They are a few blocks away from Oga’s now. Rey decides to update the calendar before she forgets. “Leia, may I ask what this lunch is for? So I can put it in the calendar for posterity.”

Rey is tapping on the tablet so she doesn’t see Leia’s expression when she says it, but her voice softens almost wistfully, with a hint of calm excitement and surprise. “My son wants to have lunch.”

Rey looks up at Leia, who has returned to gazing out the window with a serene smile on her lips.

“I didn’t know you had a son.” Rey clicks off the tablet and stows it back into her purse. She doesn’t feel right intruding on Leia’s private lunch with her son. “Would you like me to wait for you outside? Or I can grab a sandwich from the convenience store next door--”

Leia shakes her head and pats Rey’s knee. She must have imagined it, but she was sure Leia also flashed her a mischievous grin. “Don’t be silly. You’re dining with us. Ben won’t mind.” 

_ Wait. Who? _

Rey swallows as her spine straightens. Her heart is beating fast and loud in her ears, and she can feel her blood racing through her veins.  _ Calm down, Rey. Ben is a perfectly common boy’s name. There are thousands of Bens in D’Qar alone. _

Rey trawled the Snoke and Palpatine, LLP website only once, when she, Rose, and Finn were at a rest stop two hours from D’Qar on that day they left Chandrila Hotel. The website offered a list of attorneys, but there were no pictures. She did see a Ben Solo, J.D., LL.M. on the list, and that seemed to satisfy her curiosity. She didn’t try to search for him on any social media site, and she didn’t tell Rose either, because she knew Rose would take it upon herself to Nancy Drew the shit out of Ben Solo. To Rey, what happens in Chandrila stays in Chandrila. 

But today is different. Today, Rey’s curiosity is piqued. She knows Leia is married—did she take her husband’s name? What  _ is _ her husband’s name, anyway? Is her son named Ben Organa?

“Where--where does, uh, Ben, is it? Where does he work? Is he from around here?” She tries to stay calm. Voice even and unwavering, hands not shaking—so far, so good. 

Leia fishes around her purse as they park. “He quit his soul-sucking job two weeks ago, so he’s moving here to D’Qar to stay with me and Han. Frankly, I’m relieved. That devil incarnate Snoke was bad news from the very beginning—”

“S-Snoke?”

Leia grins triumphantly when she finally digs out her phone from the deep well of her purse. She is distracted, swiping through her phone and not seeing the shocked look on her assistant’s face. “Snoke and Palpatine. You must’ve heard of them or seen their tacky TV commercials. Who still does those in 2019, anyway? The most ruthless, soulless law firm this side of the west coast. I’m so glad my Ben is no longer associated with those fermented old windbags.”

Leia pops her door open and steps out of the car, one hand shielding her eyes from the midday sun, and the other peering down at her phone. “He’s already inside.”

Rey wants to throw up. She wants to jump back in the car and order Poe to take her back to the safety of Resistance Labs where she can hyperventilate under Rose’s desk. Her palms are sweaty, her knees are shaky, and she isn’t ready to come to terms with the fact that she may have possibly had the best shag of her life from her boss’ prodigal son.

Time is in slow motion as Rey follows Leia through the doors of Oga’s Cantina, as they follow the host who greets them and leads them to a table already reserved at the back. The sound of utensils scraping against ceramic plates and the lively chatter of diners are slowly sucked into a vacuum. The world pauses and quiets down.

Rey sees him first. Her eyes start to sting and the pressure of an invisible hand squeezing her heart tightens as she sees the tall figure with jet-black hair and an aquiline nose start to rise from his seat. No Armani suit this time; he is wearing a loose black sweater. The muscles in his jaw clench and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat once she and Leia stop in front of the table.

Rey doesn’t make a move, doesn’t make a sound as Leia throws her arms around Ben’s neck.  _ Rey’s Ben _ . Ben with the warm chocolate brown eyes and the gigantic hands that masterfully strummed her body like a guitar all those months ago. The same Ben whose eyes have not left Rey’s since the moment she walked into the restaurant.

This is the same Ben who took up permanent residence in her heart and mind the morning they bid each other goodbye in a dimly lit hotel room in Chandrila.

Rey doesn’t hear Leia’s introductions—she is focused on Ben, the grin on his face widening as he extends his hand to her.

“Hi, I’m Ben Solo. Nice to finally meet you.”

x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oga's Cantina
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read my first ever exchange fic! I hope you enjoyed it.


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